


Insomniac Support Group

by rememberednoah



Series: summer break stucky au's [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Cussing, Cute, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insomnia, Insomniac Sam, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve, Sleep Deprivation, insomniac bucky, sort of meet ugly, veteran bucky barnes, veteran sam wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberednoah/pseuds/rememberednoah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bucky and Sam both have insomnia and are in an insomniac support group. In which Sam drags Steve (the asshole who sleeps perfectly fine during the night) with him to a meeting and Steve dutifully and accidentally falls asleep. In which Bucky attempts to kill Steve (aka glares at Steve until he wakes up and then proceeds to glare at him more).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomniac Support Group

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [ this](http://i.imgur.com/G02ZUOF.jpg) tumblr post. Steve is like 19-20 in this fic while Bucky and Sam are 23-24. Just fyi cause it’s really not relevant to the plot. Also, there’s cussing cause I like cuss words (sorrynotsorry).

Steve was two seconds away from falling back to sleep. He had stirred, if just a slight flutter of his eyelids, because he had been dreaming, from what he could vaguely remember, about fighting with someone over the last bag of Doritos in the supermarket. It had been an intense fight which Steve was surprisingly winning (that was until he _sort_ of woke up from the dream). Sadly for Steve, those two seconds of barely consciousness were witnessed by Sam Wilson who then proceeded to grab him by the front of his shirt and, quite literally, dragged him out of bed. 

"Come on. You're coming with me," Sam said, setting Steve down on his own two, still unstable due to his total lack of alertness, feet. 

"Huh, what?" Steve mumbled stupidly as he looked up at Sam with a dazed and questioning expression. Steve had not been prepared mentally and physically to be woken up so suddenly by his best friend. 

Sam rolled his eyes and yanked Steve by his arm, dragging him into the living room of the apartment they both shared. "Put some shoes on. You can stay in your pajamas, no one will give a damn."

"No one? Sam, what are you talking about?" Steve asked dumbly, running a hand through his blonde hair and then trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. When he was fully conscious, Steve was going to **kill** Sam for waking him up from perfectly good sleep. That was just the sort of shit you didn't do to your best friend. When had Steve ever woken up Sam from sleep? Never, cause he was a courteous and _nice_ friend. 

Sam handed Steve the first pair of shoes he found and sternly said, "Put these on. It's about time you went with me to one of these things." 

"Why do I have to go at—" Steve drifted off and looked for the first thing that could tell him the time (which ended up being Sam's phone which was abandoned on the couch). "Why are we leaving the apartment at three fucking am?" 

Steve could handle not sleeping, really, he could, but this was just bizarre. He could understand having to stay up till morning because he was working on a commission or whatever scraps of paying work he could get. . . But whatever reason Sam had to wake him up at three in the morning was just beyond Steve. Worst of all, Steve had gone to bed just an hour before because he had been working on a really complex commission he had begun to regret accepting to make. Sam waking him up was just not acceptable. . .and Steve would let him know just that when he was fully aware of himself. 

"The other guys in my support group keep asking about you. I promised them I would drag your ass there one day. Today is that day. Plus, one of the guys is totally your type.”

“My type? Since when do you even pay attention—” Steve was immediately cut off by Sam who looked at him with an expression that was a mix of stern and exasperated. Sam was typically very level-minded, but Steve was aware he pushed Sam’s patience buttons sometimes.

“Yes, your type. Dark, broody and murderous looking.” Steve was just about to complain that he was most certainly **not** into the murderous looking type when Sam told him, “Hurry up and put on those shoes." 

"What support group are we going to anyway?" Steve asked while he put on his shoes. To be honest, the question was very fucking valid. Ever since Sam had come back from serving he had joined about a dozen support groups (some where he helped others and some where he got help himself), but Steve had never heard of one where they met at **three in the morning.**

"It's for insomniacs. Come on!" Sam half dragged Steve out the door and Steve rolled his baby blue eyes before willingly following after Sam. 

Steve was pretty sure he would regret allowing himself to be dragged to the meeting. Especially because he totally _did_ have a thing for dark and broody and he couldn't let Sam win. . .not this time. 

**{ • • • }**

Sam drove Steve to what looked like a very normal and ordinary building. He found a parking spot easily and before Steve could think of it twice, he was already following Sam inside. Sam looked like he was in a hurry, he had Steve basically running after him, and Steve understood why as soon as he stepped into the room the meeting was in. The two of them were actually late to the meeting and all the other members were already there. Steve knew Sam couldn't stand being late to any place where he was expected and he felt slightly bad about making Sam late before he remembered that Sam _woke_ him up and it was, in fact, Sam’s own fault that he was late. 

The members of the group grunted their hellos and waited until Sam and Steve each took a seat around the small circle of chairs they had made. Steve looked around skeptically and tried to look as invisible as possible as he took a seat beside Sam. Most of the members looked nice enough, if obviously sleep deprived, but the guy sitting right across from Steve looked almost scary. The guy sat carelessly slouched in his chair, wearing a worn jean jacket (that looked like it had seen better days) with a simple gray t-shirt underneath, black pajama bottoms, and the whole look was finished off with a pair of black combat boots. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, dark gray eyes with dark shadows underneath them looking at Steve defiantly. . .And yeah, Steve would be totally lying if he said he didn't find the guy hot and scary at the same time. This scary exterior was _exactly_ how Steve knew he was seeing the guy Sam had mentioned. So, Steve made a point of avoiding the stormy eyes of the guy and focused his attention on the guy that seemed to be the leader of the meeting because Steve had strong will power and he would prove Sam wrong. He would prove he was **not** into the murderous looking type. 

It wasn't long before the whole meeting begun to move along and since Steve was being ignored, for the most part, he made sure to keep extra quiet and tried to listen to everyone as they spoke. The whole dynamic of the meeting was very relaxed and they all just seemed to talk whenever they felt like it and if not they remained quiet which was just fine with Steve. Admittedly, Steve was just a _little_ curious about the guy sitting across from him, but the guy didn't speak up and since Steve was so **not** looking at him, he began to grow sleepy as boredom took over.

Steve’s eyes began to burn as he listened to what one of the few females in the group was saying. He was trying _really_ hard to stay awake, but his hands ached and his eyes were tired from all the work he had accomplished on that hard as fuck commission. He attempted to remain awake because, honestly, what kind of asshole fell asleep in an insomniac support group meeting? 

Apparently, Steve was that asshole. Without his authorization, his eyes drooped closed and he was lost in his dreams. 

  
**{ • • • }**

Bucky was going to kill the stupidly adorable blonde asshole who had fallen asleep during the meeting. On the inside, Bucky was ready to stand up, shake the skinny frame of the blonde punk who had fallen asleep, and make sure he woke up. What did he really do? He showed incredible amounts of restraint and gave the sleeping punk one of his deadliest glares. If he was going to wake that asshole up, it would be by sheer power of will (which Bucky had more than enough of). 

Bucky had absolutely no problem with glaring at the blonde for the rest of the meeting if that was what it took for the skinny punk to wake up. In fact, he was a bit surprised that Sam had bothered to bring that guy there. The blonde _clearly_ had no problem with gaining sleep which left Bucky wondering why he was there at all. Bucky spared a glance at Sam, but the man was busy talking with another member of the group and did not notice Bucky’s gaze. He had also obviously not noticed that his companion had fallen asleep because Bucky was pretty sure that if Sam knew his friend was asleep he would have woken him up by now. 

Bucky went back to his new mission, staring holes into the blonde, until the guy actually stirred slightly in his sleep. He was just seconds away from being victorious, the punk was going to wake up, when someone called out to Bucky. 

"Bucky? Hey, Bucky!" 

Bucky snapped his attention to whoever had interrupted him and gave them the same death glare he had been giving the blonde. The person who had spoken was actually his best friend, Natasha, and she squared her jaw at him when she noticed his expression. He immediately relaxed his features and asked, "What is it?" 

"You haven't talked all night. We were all just wondering why, but if you’re going to be a bitch about it then I really don’t care about what’s on your mind," she said, seeming to regret the fact that she had even bothered to speak at all. Bucky immediately felt bad because if there was one thing he hated it was unintentionally making his best friend angry. He loved pissing her off **on purpose** , but not so much accidentally. Bucky just really needed that blonde asshole to wake up and Natasha just happened to be in the crossfires (which she clearly did not like). 

"I've been quiet because of this punk," Bucky said, pointing at the sleeping blonde. 

As if he knew that someone had spoken of him, the blonde woke up instantly. He opened his bright blue eyes suddenly and Bucky offered him a smoldering glare. The blonde grew visibly nervous and straightened in his chair, absently running his long thin fingers through his hair. Bucky instantly hated those hands because, _seriously_ , who literally had artist hands in real life? The answer was supposed to be no one, but that blonde asshole had them. 

Sam turned to look at his friend and then frowned visibly when he noticed his friend's obviously sleepy expression. "Did you fall asleep?"

"No?" the blonde suggested sheepishly. 

Bucky was so fucking done with this guy. He was too cute and too much of an asshole for Bucky to _deal_ with. He was about to give the guy a piece of his mind when Sam spoke up. "I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you guys that this is my roommate and friend: Steve." 

That shut Bucky the fuck up. Bucky's expression completely changed and he looked at the blonde in bewilderment. **_That_** was the Steve that Sam always talked about? The one that helped old ladies cross the street and probably saved kittens from trees? The one who had been born on the Fourth of July and Bucky had thought was completely fictional because he was too fucking perfect to be real? Someone needed to shoot Bucky right then and there. 

**{ • • • }**

Steve felt incredibly uncomfortable when all eyes turned to him, but instead of showing it, he straightened even more and met everyone's gaze head on. He was uncertain if he should smile so he sort of just nodded and agreed with what Sam had just said. "Hi, I was sort of ripped from my bed if you guys hadn't noticed." 

The whole group then burst into very loud and obnoxious conversation which Steve struggled to follow. He was aware of his name being thrown here and there and questions being made at him, but he couldn't really understand anyone. He was, though, very aware of the guy sitting across from him looking at him incredulously. The gray eyes of the guy were wide and staring at him strangely and Steve wondered if he preferred the glaring or this sort of _stunned_ expression. 

Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to say what he said next, but he did, and he delivered the line with a smirk. "You can poke me if you want, to make sure I'm real." 

What made things even more interesting? The guy actually stood up and poked Steve right in the center of his chest. "Sam, what the fuck? I thought you were making this guy up. Did you hire him or something to _purposefully_ fall asleep in this meeting so that I would think he's an ass when all the time you've pretty much said he's an angel?" 

The smirk on Steve's lips turned into a full blown shit eating grin and he looked at Sam precisely with this expression. Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Just to be clear, I have never actually called you an angel. Bucky here just doesn't believe in humanity anymore so he thinks my description of you equals the description of an angel." 

"People don't just _do_ what you've said he's done," Bucky, as Steve now knew he was called, said, still pointing in Steve's direction. 

"Well, he _has_ and he's right here," Sam said, carelessly throwing an arm around Steve's skinny frame and grinning up at Bucky. 

Steve was still pretty sure he was terrified of Bucky, but at least he had the advantage that the guy thought he was an angel. . . Or at least _used_ to think he was an angel. "So, does this mean you're going to stop glaring holes into me?" 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Steve and did not answer the blonde's question. He simply sat back down on his chair and stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. Steve would be damned if he didn't admit he thought grumpy Bucky was the cutest shit ever. 

**{ • • • }**

Exactly three months later, Steve had become the permanent sleeping member of the insomniac support group. Everyone made fun of Steve for it, first and foremost Bucky, but the blonde knew everyone was used to it by now (and sort of loved him for it). Each time the group had a meeting, Steve would be woken up in the wee hours of the morning by Sam (quickly followed by a call from Bucky) and Steve’s blonde ass would be dragged out of bed and to the meeting. Steve didn't mind though because he had totally lost against Sam (who knew _exactly_ his type) and now Steve was dating the dark and broody Bucky Barnes who was actually a total fluff ball that liked to pretend he was badass. 

So, whenever a meeting rolled around, Steve would gladly get in the car with Sam and go with him. The moment they were in the room the meeting was held in, he made a bee-line towards Bucky and sat down beside him. The blonde then took Bucky’s arm and used it as a pillow and went to sleep while the rest of the members rolled their eyes and Natasha dutifully scoffed and shook her head at Bucky for dating the equivalent of a puppy.

  
**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you liked that! Don’t be scared to send me prompts [ here](http://misplacedstraightjacket.tumblr.com/ask). Summer break has started for me and I have more free time to write :D


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